Tenaka Comes

> "Well, come on then," said the Mage. "Where do you want to go?"
> "I would visit the Guardian Citadel!"
     A great puzzlment came over the mage.
     "The what?"
     Tenaka came closer, his Antilight threatening the room. "Fool! You heard
my request. Grant it."
     The mage did his best to stand his ground, but he could not keep his
eyes steady. This customer was rude indeed. He made furtive movements with
his hands, but upon catching the look on the other mage's face, he cut short
his spell. Fire, it seemed, would do no good here. Instead, he cleared his
throat.
     "Excuse my ignorance then, for I do not know of this citadel. Perhaps if
you--"
     The dark elf advanced upon the mage again, pushing the poor man into a
corner. His shadow filled the room. The one who had brought Tenaka here fled
in despair. Tenaka looked into the man's face and knew he truly did not know
about the Guardian Citadel. Still, his anger did not lessen.
     "Then find me someone who does know of this place. I have need to go
there this very night. I will brook no delays!"
     He receded enough for the mage to slip by and followed him through the
winding guild hall. The first mage had been busy, and when Tenaka came into
the main hall, there were a dozen men there already, staffs in hand, stern
faces turned toward the intruder. An archmage stood forward with the sternest
face of all.
     "And who is this who charges in our hall in contempt of the law and our
power?"
     The question was rhetorical, as Tenaka was known in the Guild and the
first mage had undoubtedly told everyone who he was and what he was doing
here. Still, the dark elf answered. To refuse would add to the delay.
     "I am Tenaka Khan, Dreadlord, and once-member of this hovel you call a
guild. I seek the services of the Travellers League. However, I foud the
member I met to be ignorant. I need passage to the Guardian Citadel. Now."
     The archmage continued to stare down his nose at the Dreadlord, but
spoke to an aide that sprang to his side.
     "Elric. Wasn't that fuss in Wayrest to do with this? A bunch of blather
about a Guardian Keep or something?"
     The aide could not tear his eyes from Tenaka. He wasn't sure himself to
whom he was speaking.
     "Yes Archmage. The Archmage of Daggerfall had ordered every major Guild
in the province to look into it."
     "And?"
     The aide seemed loathe to continue.
     "We cannot send the Dreadlord there."
     The boy seemed to expect a sudden death from the dark elf. The Dreadlord
had drawn himself up to his full height and looked fit to knock heads from
shoulders. Indeed, death was on Tenaka's mind, but it would mean further
delay. He twisted his face into a smile, though there was no humor there.
     "Why not, boy?"
     "It -- it lies in a place c-called 'Torith au Werre.' Magicka does not
work there. Some of the other aides said...uh...there lives a seven-eyed
demon with many arms and legs and...uh..." He stopped, saving himself from
further embarrasment.
     The archmage wanted Tenaka out of the guild hall quickly, so he shooed
away the aide, who eagerly obeyed, and smiled.
     "Of course. The Guardian Citadel. We'll get you on your way presently."
     He pointed to the member who brought in the bothersome dark elf and also
stabbed a short finger and the aide. The boy was very reluctant.
     "Boy! You seem to know a bit about this. You will hold the picture of
the place in your mind. Yes, stand there!"
     Tenaka closed to the mage and aide and stood patiently while they
started the spell. Immediately, the casting mage frowned. Soon he shook his
head and slumped against the aide. The archmage frowned and called over two
more mages. The muttering incantation remained strained, however, and the
archmage grew anxious. What was going on? Impatient, he stepped up to the
growing circle of mages, and soon the whole guild was encircling Tenaka Khan.
He felt there power around him, straining to tear through some barrier. The
world twisted and colors bled. The sound of bodies falling to the floor and
then a bright sound and thunderous light.
     The light resolved into a merciless sun, though it be low in the east.
The sound became his heavy breath. Sand dragged at his arms and legs as he
pulled himself to a standing position. At the last, he had put forth some of
his own will into the spell, and now suffered a dull ache behind his eyes.
A black fortress reared up hard on his left, its many narrow windows frowning
down upon the wasted land.

     The archmage stared down at those who had fallen in the spell. They were
exhausted and cared only for their next breath. Those who still stooed looked
at the archmage reproachfully. He looked to the aide slumped against the far
wall, eyes wet. Perhaps he should look into this Wayrest business.

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Alduin dor Lammoth